


Co-King of the Awkward Dorks

by rispacooper



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after, with goofy smiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Co-King of the Awkward Dorks

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The World Is Crooked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/503768) by [rispacooper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper). 



> Dlasta urged me to do a sequel to The World is Crooked when I wanted beginner bjs and doofy love smiles. I have no shame I guess. For background information read that story first. (This is so not even porn.)

 

Stiles woke up to the sight of morning sunshine creeping through his window to light up his room and the awareness of just how much he needed to pee, which was a lot. He grumbled at Derek to move his arm so he could get up then wiped blearily at his face before shoving an unmoving and apparently still asleep Derek over so he could get up and pee. His mouth felt sticky, like he hadn’t had anything to drink in days, and he padded out of his room to the bathroom deciding that he would pee and then slurp water out of the sink before heading back to bed. He hated peeing with morning wood but he really had to go and he just wanted to go back to bed, he was exhausted the way he usually only was after a strenuous round of lacrosse practice or a night spent running around the woods chasing or being chased by werewolves. He deserved to stay in bed a little longer, and unless he was dreaming, it was Spring Break, he could do what he wanted. 

He passed the mirror without looking up and spent a good minute pissing out all the whiskey in the world and then flushed before stumbling over to the sink to fill his mouth with water. He took a couple gulps before straightening up and then choked and sputtered as it went down the wrong pipe and nearly killed him. He didn’t even care. He reached out to touch the mirror, thinking with sleepy certainty that the mirror had to be messing with him, because his reflection had red stubble burn around its mouth and a string of mouth-shaped bruises—hickeys, _hickeys_ —at his throat and collarbone. 

His eyes watered as he coughed but he could still watch as he put his other hand over all those purpling hickeys and press in until he could feel an ache. Pain, just a little, but real.

He wasn’t dreaming then, Stiles decided and smacked himself upside the head as he remembered leaving Derek in bed to come in here and then last night and getting Derek off and Derek getting him off and cleaning up with the tissues by his bed before stripping his stained clothes off and collapsing back into bed. He must have passed out.

He looked down at a few spots of dried come that they must have missed and sort of poked at them for a second, in a totally, completely understandable haze of _I just had sex_ feelings. 

“I just had sex with Derek,” he told his reflection and smiled a smile that even Scott would have said was dopey but he absolutely did not care because he had had sex with Derek and Derek had spent the night. That was victory no matter how anyone looked at it, even if he had gotten there through the use of alcohol. It wasn’t like he’d gotten Derek drunk. He couldn’t have and he wouldn’t have anyway. That had been _his_ liquid courage.

He grinned at himself for a while, because liquid courage was awesome sometimes, and then blinked when he realized he was standing in the bathroom in just a pair of slightly crusty boxer shorts and smiling at himself and meanwhile there was a hot, sleepy Derek in his bed just down the hall… and that he’d left his bedroom wide open and though he didn’t think his dad was home there was always the chance and that was really not the way for his dad to find out Derek’s place in Stiles’ life. 

Life was a much safer word than heart, Stiles had decided that forever ago. The way that he described Derek as a friend, sort of, whenever he mentioned him and his dad frowned. 

Stiles splashed water over his face and used a hand towel to dry off and then tiptoed out to listen in at his dad’s door, but it seemed quiet. 

“Dad?” he called out toward the rest of the house and let out a sigh when there was no answer. Then he tiptoed back into his room and carefully and silently closed the door and locked it just to be on the safe side. He turned around and jumped like a foot in the air to see Derek sitting up at the edge of his bed and watching him. 

“Was I supposed to sleep through that?” Derek wondered and if Stiles hadn’t known him so well he might have missed the dry humor in the question. Stiles chose to ignore the way his brain liked to forget sometimes that he was dealing with werewolves and stared back at him.

Derek was naked, like not just shirtless but all the way naked and how had Stiles passed out without realizing that, how? He looked down and then up and then down again because he was weak and still half-asleep. Derek’s dick was somewhere between soft and hard and Stiles knew it was probably just because it was morning, but he liked it anyway. 

Derek had the exact same amount of stubble he’d had last night, which was probably some werewolf thing to ensure he always looked hot, and he had absolutely no bite marks or hickeys on him despite how Stiles’ knew he should have some. It would have been disheartening if Stiles hadn’t immediately seen Derek’s chest and thought how nice it was to have a blank slate to do it all over again. 

If Derek was down for that. Stiles made himself raise his eyes at the thought. “So… did you want breakfast or a shower?” he offered politely. He wasn’t just going to assume that Derek wanted to jump his bones right away even if Derek had said he wanted to last night; Stiles was a gentleman. 

Derek blinked a few times as if he hadn’t expected that and Stiles huffed at him. “What? I have manners. I can wait if you want to clean up or get a bite—have some Captain Crunch first.”

“Generous of you.” Derek was being dry again. He rubbed at his cheeks and shook a little like he was still waking up and, Stiles peered down, yes he was still naked, very naked. 

“You’re going to have to put on clothes if you want breakfast though,” Stiles conceded, but with his eyebrows up and a hopeless little noise. “Because I am a teenage boy who had sex for the first time last night and there’s only so much I can….”

Derek stretched, working out kinks in his back and his shoulders and just generally flexing an indecent amount of muscle. His skin was practically glowing. So was his face for that matter, like Derek was feeling good things. 

Stiles stopped talking long enough to lick his lips, “Or we could… sex again… if you want.” His heart was racing and that wasn’t a sentence but so what? 

Derek finished stretching and stared at him. And by stared at him, Stiles meant Derek slowly looked him up and down before deciding to settle his attention on Stiles’ Captain America boxers. They were mostly red except for the little shields all over them. They also felt about two sizes too small right now and they were only getting smaller the longer Derek stared at them. 

Stiles fell back against the door and squirmed. This was so much harder when he was sober and no, that was not a pun. 

“Stiles.” The grin was really so incredibly unfair. Stiles had known Derek long enough to know how rare those grins were, especially the amused but also feral ones, the kind where Stiles got the distinct impression that inner wolf Derek was saying funny things to outer human Derek. 

Stiles swallowed. “Uh, yeah, Derek?” If Derek kept staring and smiling like that he was going to start touching himself. If nothing else it might provoke a reaction. 

“You could come closer,” Derek told him, “It would make the ‘sex again’ easier.” He actually made air quotes. _Sarcastic_ air quotes. 

“You get some and you turn into a comedian, I see how it is,” Stiles remarked in a sour grumble but pushed away from the door with an eager lack of dignity and hurried forward, only to stop when he was in front of Derek because he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

“You don’t like it?” Derek frowned up at him. He had bed head. It was a good look on him. Stiles smushed his hair down for him anyway then quickly put his hands back at his sides. 

“Dude. It’s the morning after. Jokes are not what I want to hear right now, though A for effort.” Stiles gave him a thumbs up for good measure. 

“I’m in a good mood.” Derek said with a tiny shrug because he wanted Stiles to instantly stop complaining to smile goofily at him. He must. 

Stiles did his best not to turn to goo and failed miserably. “Go to prom with me, it will be amazing. We can go to that motel out on Interstate afterward and pretend to have awkward prom night first times. I’ll pin a corsage on you and then we can get freaky in a motel bed.”

“Motel beds smell bad,” Derek responded seriously and then slid his fingers along Stiles’ waist, just along the skin at first and then between the elastic waistband of his boxers and his skin. He tugged. Stiles stepped forward until he was between Derek’s knees and Derek was breathing against his stomach, just that enough to get Stiles’ dick twitchy and excited, not that it took much. 

“Okay,” Stiles agreed, panting a little, because Derek’s cheeks were flushed and he was leaning in until, oh god, his mouth was on Stiles’ stomach. He was going to get stubble burn there too, maybe another bite mark if Derek did more than just drag his teeth over his hip. But Derek didn’t bite, he was pressing short, slow kisses down over Stiles’ naval, under his belly button and against the edge of his boxers. “Okay we can do it in the backseat of your car instead,” Stiles went on, his voice getting high. “Derek are you going to…?” He couldn’t say it, if it said it out loud it might not happen, but there was no blood in his head anymore and his Captain America boxers were tight over his crotch. 

“Do you want me to?” Derek asked that, he seriously asked that. Stiles would have snorted and said something sarcastic back but really, he could barely think, so he clenched his hands into fists and curled his toes into the carpet and begged a little, “Y… yes very much yes.” Derek exhaled roughly against Stiles’ wet skin, making him shiver, and put his hands on Stiles’ hips. His palms were sweaty and his grip was nervously tight, but he bent in and took a deep breath before mouthing at the cotton and Stiles jerked and got the hardest he’d ever gotten in his life, right against Derek’s mouth. 

Stiles moaned, but Derek made a surprised, careful sound and then sucked a little and Stiles could feel his boxers growing wet, with spit, with pre-come, both, either, he didn’t care which because he was hard on Derek’s tongue. Derek moved his mouth up and sucked again, and when Stiles gasped out probably obscene things over his head, he grasped at him and brought him closer. 

Derek was tracing his dick through the fabric with his mouth and before Stiles could remember the words to remind him that cotton chafed even when it was wet and that his boxers weren’t exactly clean after last night, Derek used his tongue to push the front open a little. 

Stiles had a hand on the back of Derek’s neck and he didn’t remember how it got there. That was okay though, because he wasn’t yanking or pushing or anything, he was just curling and uncurling his fingers against Derek’s nape and breathing heavily. 

Derek was exploring him and killing him at the same time. It was awesome. He was breathing in, smelling probably, though Stiles wasn’t going to think about that now, he just shivered at each small rush of warm air and how after a few breaths and one cautious lick, Derek made a noise and reached up to pull his boxers down. He wasn’t exactly gentle, but Stiles was trying to shimmy out of them at the same time so that wasn’t entirely his fault. Once they were at his ankles, Derek glanced up at him like he was actually worried Stiles might back out now. 

“Dude.” _Don’t make me smack you for being an idiot._ But Stiles paused after he said it and decided to be brave and move his thumb back and forth across Derek’s skin because Stiles had been drunk when he’d made the first move last night and Derek was totally stone cold sober right now. 

Derek frowned as if he didn’t know what petting the back of his neck with a thumb meant, so Stiles moved his thumb to Derek’s mouth and petted his lower lip instead. After a second Derek shut his eyes and leaned his head in, nipping with front teeth and letting Stiles feel his canines. His lips were curved up, so Stiles took it for playful. 

“Okay, but none of that later if you know what I mean,” Stiles instructed him in the firmest voice he could manage and Derek released his thumb so he could surge forward and suck Stiles’ dick into his mouth. He was probably still smiling. Stiles made a garbled noise and looked down. And yeah, yeah that was happening and it was the greatest thing he’d ever seen in his life. Derek’s lips were just closed around the head and it wasn’t like Stiles was expecting instant deep throat anyway. He didn’t even push into Derek’s mouth… much. Okay he did, but it was only from surprise and it was only for a second. 

Derek just grunted. He wasn’t holding Stiles back though, he was holding Stiles steady, and close, but he was not holding him back. Stiles held still anyway, because he really was a gentleman and because the humming, shivering sensation of Derek licking and grunting against his dick was enough to have him shaking and if he moved this might end right now. 

“So I’m no expert,” Stiles started after long, incredible moments of being tasted and considered and repeatedly licked in a really sensitive area until his voice broke, “but usually isn’t the person doing the blowing supposed to move his hea--”

Derek tightened his grip and inched his head forward, then back. Stiles just kind of moved with him. He dropped a hand to squeeze the base of his dick and wasn’t really surprised when Derek forced his hand away and replaced it with his own, if anything he was turned on by it. He pressed forward and slid right into Derek’s hot mouth and realized he was staring and licking his lips and panting and shoving forward centimeter by slow centimeter until Derek grunted again. Then he stopped and breathed hard and just kept touching Derek’s skin, which was damp and oddly cool. 

“Yeah that’s good,” he whispered as reassuringly as he could with his voice almost gone, just gone, and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to suck Derek off yet. Derek tensed, but if he wanted to growl at the praise he didn’t do it. He swallowed, which Stiles could _feel_ , and then eased back and opened his eyes. 

His eyes were fierce , glowing. Stiles got it. He moved. Of course sliding his dick in and out of Derek’s mouth, _watching_ his dick slide in and out of Derek’s mouth, was not something he could just do, okay? It required harsh breathing, and praising the gods of sex and Derek’s mouth a lot, and then grabbing desperately and gratefully at Derek’s neck when Derek let him go faster. Derek wasn’t even blowing him, Derek was letting Stiles fuck his mouth, and saying it wasn’t going to make it stop. 

“Dude, I’m fucking your mouth,” he gasped like an idiot and this time was there was a growl and it. Felt. So. Good. Stiles scrabbled at Derek’s skin, probably scratching a little in his haste to get at Derek’s short hair, to tug and pull and make him, god yes, growl again. It was like a short cut to his brain, to his balls, and Stiles moaned and put his head back and forgot to move except to get in there as far as he could go. 

Derek choked, growled, but gripped Stiles tight to hold him still and then pulled his head back, to suck in air and then just suck at the head. He dropped a hand and Stiles couldn’t think about it until it slipped down under his balls and then he was whining at the ceiling and arching over Derek and just trying to say Derek’s name, to say anything as he whited out and came. Stiles would feel guilty about not warning him better later.

Maybe Derek had werewolf senses that told him when someone was about to come, because he moved, not in time get away without a splash of come on his face but enough so that most of it hit him across the chest. He raised his head to stare and Stiles kind of blankly stared back. 

After a second he swayed and Derek caught him. He had a funny look at his face. Stiles ran his hand over Derek’s cheek to clean it up and then forgot the come on his hand to pat at Derek’s bottom lip. Derek’s eyebrows came together in a cute little frown of confusion and Stiles smiled at him. 

“I really like you,” he beamed at him, light-headed and loose in new, great ways. “You totally have a place in my life.” He nodded. 

Derek sniffed the air. “You aren’t drunk.”

“Nah. Pff.” Stiles grinned at him and petted his face some more. It was smearing come in places Derek probably didn’t want it smeared, but he wasn’t saying anything. He was watching Stiles with bright eyes and his mouth open as he caught his breath. He licked at Stiles’ fingers, tasting his jizz, and Stiles threw his other hand out to demonstrate his good will toward the world at the moment. “Blow jobs are amazing. You should try them.”

Derek made his huffy laughing sound and then gave Stiles a very significant eye roll. 

“Oh right.” Stiles released his face and immediately dropped to his knees. There was slightly less control in the action that he might have wanted, because he face-planted into Derek’s bare thigh. “Still the greatest day ever,” he mumbled into Derek’s sizable leg muscles and liked how they tensed under his mouth. It seemed right to kiss it. He’d seen that in a movie, a guy slowly kissing his way up a woman’s inner thigh. Only after the third kiss he got hair in his mouth and Derek slid his hand through his hair to cup the back of his head and draw his attention forward. 

Stiles would have been offended but being turned put his face in the vicinity of Derek’s dick and that was not a bad place to be. He swallowed and looked up and took it in. Foreskin, huh. It made sense. Size wise, well, he hadn’t expected to get magical deep-throating abilities right away either. 

He was debating whether to lick his way up from Derek’s balls or to just attack the head, so to speak, but Derek pulled his hand away and shut his mouth. He angled his head to the side and even before he frowned Stiles knew what was happening. 

Stiles got up higher on his knees in a totally smooth move and wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist and took his dick in his mouth. He immediately choked a little, because not once in his life could he ever be smooth for that long, but he angled his head back and took a breath and let himself feel the weight on his tongue. Taste yeah, but the weight… that was amazing. He inched forward until his eyes watered and couldn’t even think about doing things with his tongue or his head, he just wanted more of that, until his mouth was full, and then he instantly felt drool run down his chin and whipped his head back to wipe it away. 

“Oops.” He tried to clean it and blinked when Derek shoved his hands away and used his thumb to dry his chin for him. Stiles watched him lift his thumb to his mouth to lick up the spit and nodded breathlessly. 

“I’m enjoying this communication thing we’ve got going on,” he told Derek smartly, his voice rasping, and then dropped back to fill up his mouth with dick. Derek didn’t push in. His hands went back to the bed, as if thinking about him tearing into Stiles’ blankets to keep a hold on himself wasn’t enough to make Stiles push himself further. His gag was real, but he inhaled carefully and then swallowed around the hot dick in his mouth. He didn’t try to take anymore, but he whimpered as he pulled back to breathe and slurp up the mix of salty spit and pre-come at the front of his mouth. 

Derek was watching, so Stiles licked around the edge of his mouth, enjoying the stretched feeling in his jaw, and then wrapped his hand around the shaft. He glanced up. “Warn me, okay?” he ordered and shifted forward to take that all in again. It was slightly easier this time, and maybe that was why a tiny sound slipped out of Derek, his name. 

“Stiles.” Derek wasn’t quite panting. Stiles put his game face on and sucked him down, getting much faster and better at it by the third and fourth times. The noises his mouth made around Derek’s dick made his face hot, but Derek’s dick was hotter, shivery and heavy in his mouth and the fifth time he slid down and then up, when he paused to finally use his tongue on Derek’s foreskin a bit, Derek slid his hands over his head to his shoulders like he didn’t know where else to put them. “Stiles.” He kept saying it, throatier, more animal every time. He could probably last a long time, unlike Stiles, but Stiles wasn’t sure how long his jaw could hold out so he looked up. 

He wasn’t sure if he conveyed, _I’d like you to come soon_ , with his expression, but Derek closed his eyes and put a hand over Stiles’ hand on his dick. His grip was tight and hard and he groaned as he urged Stiles to stroke him in time with his mouth sliding down and Stiles shifted forward on his knees and let his sweat slick hands run over Derek’s thighs to feel the tense ripple of muscle as Derek fought pushing up into his mouth. He would someday though, because someday Stiles would be able to take it and they were definitely going to have a someday. 

He dug his fingers into Derek’s thighs like he was going to take that someday right now and choked when he tried to, but it didn’t matter, because Derek put his other hand to his nipple, the left one, the one Stiles had bitten, his favorite, and pinched it. Stiles moaned to see it and maybe it was his moan echoing up the length of Derek’s dick but he stopped breathing and clamped his hand down even harder over Stiles’ hand so Stiles shut his eyes and leaned in and immediately gagged on the flood of come hitting his throat. 

It was so hot he flailed his hands before falling forward, and swallowing only took care of the first burst. He felt it spill out around Derek’s dick, felt more pulse onto his tongue, and then registered the taste. Weird, he decided, not great but not bad. He swallowed again, pulling back and swallowing until his throat hurt and his mouth felt thick and sticky, and then looked up at Derek who was scowling at him. 

“Like I was going to miss that,” Stiles dismissed his concern with sort of a wheezy scoff and handwave. Then he collapsed back on his ass and sucked in air. Derek opened his mouth then closed it, then snorted. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Right?” Stiles agreed, then waited. He waited another second before twitching. “So?”

“So.” Derek repeated thoughtfully, and yes, Mr. Dry Comedian Wolf was back. Stiles huffed at him and then got dragged up to the bed and had his face pawed at in a Derek attempt at cleaning him. He should be grateful Derek hadn’t gone for a tongue bath. 

Or not. That had possibilities. Stiles wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t considered the idea before. Ideas he reconsidered when Derek absently stuck his fingers in his mouth when he was done. 

“Uh, what?” Stiles told him like the genius he was. Derek stopped grooming him to just sit there for a moment, suddenly king of the awkward dorks. But Stiles was not his queen, he was co-king. 

“Breakfast?” Derek wondered hopefully after a few more moments of them staring at each other and growing wide, embarrassingly goofy smiles. 

“Shower,” Stiles corrected. He didn’t have a werewolf nose, and what he could smell just smelled rank. Derek didn’t seem to smell anything. Dogs. Totally gross. But Stiles sighed. “Shower then breakfast,” he decided but didn’t feel the need to actually get up to do either of those things. Neither did Derek he guessed. So after a second Stiles leaned forward and rested his forehead against the side of Derek’s shoulder. “Or we could stay in bed a little longer,” he offered. It seemed reasonable. It was Spring Break. They could do whatever they wanted. 

At least until his dad came home.


End file.
